about his voice that sent a tremor right through Michelle’s body. He noticed.
‘You’re cold—dannazione! If I’d brought my jacket I’d offer it to you. Why don’t you go inside and fetch something?’
‘I don’t have anything,’ she replied, hoping he would believe her. This was all too precious to spoil.
‘Then sit closer to me. I can shield you from any chill.’
‘I’m not cold.’ Not any more, she thought, taking in a long, slow breath.
She wondered what to do if he insisted she moved nearer to him. Torn between doing the right thing and imagining how wonderful the wrong thing would be, she was tense with indecision. Then the fragrance of night stole over her. Sultry top notes of lavender and jasmine were lightened by the sweet, more elusive scent of roses. For Michelle, this was a dream come true. With nothing to do but enjoy her surroundings, she began to lose herself in fantasy.
‘This is what I imagine a real English country garden would be like,’ she said eventually.
‘Then you are homesick, Michelle?’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, signor! I didn’t mean to say that out loud.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ His voice was a low, seductive sound, steady against the background crackle of insects. ‘And, as I shall be calling you Michelle, you should call me Alessandro.’
When he said that, she tensed, concentrating on the strawberries clustered at the bottom of her glass. He handed her a solid silver teaspoon. One by one she spooned them out, savouring every mouthful and every moment.
‘You didn’t answer my question, Michelle. Are you homesick?’
‘No, not at all—unless you count being sick of home.’ She stopped, remembered that part of her life was over, and smiled. ‘Although I’ve put all that behind me now. I’m a free agent.’
She saw him raise his eyebrows and rushed to explain.
‘That is—I mean—I don’t have a home in England any more. And I never did manage to get my wish of a lovely little house like this, with roses around the door.’
‘This isn’t a house, it’s a studio—and one I was hoping to use,’ he said softly.
Michelle was quick to pick up on the tinge of regret in his voice. ‘You can work from the house, signor—’
He shot her a warning look and she corrected herself, ‘I mean, Alessandro. You should have let me show you around. The whole house is set up as a satellite office. It’s got everything—’
He silenced her with a raised hand. ‘This is all I need at the moment—some peace and quiet. Tonight I want to drink in this atmosphere and the starlight.’
He gestured towards the sky. Michelle lifted her eyes, following his finger as it pointed upwards. With the coast behind them, they were looking out over the velvety blackness of the villa’s estate. Beyond its boundary walls lay miles of lavender fields and patches of undeveloped maquis. There were no disco lights to outshine the stars as they twinkled like pinpricks across the deep indigo of the night.
‘Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Michelle?’ he asked.
She shook her head, although she thought he was more wonderful than anything else on show that night. Her emotions were in meltdown. Part of her wanted him to say more. Seduction would have been extra-sweet in this heavenly setting under the stars. Yet a spider’s web of warnings tugged at her, holding her back.
Her mother had always told her how untrustworthy men could be. None had stuck around for long after they’d met the fearsome Mrs Spicer, that was for sure. The result was that Michelle couldn’t fully enjoy the experience of being alone with such a wonderful man in this tempting situation. She was too busy watching for warning signs.
But if Alessandro realised how tense she was, he made no allowance for it.
‘I think this has been the most miraculous evening I’ve ever experienced.’ He took the champagne glass and spoon from her hands. Smiling, he saluted her with it. ‘Thank you for sharing it with me.’
Michelle was stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. ‘If there’s ever anything you want, Alessandro, you only have to ask,’ she whispered.
He put the glass down on the table behind him.
‘That’s dangerous talk, Michelle.’ There was a provocative look in his eyes that almost stopped her heart. ‘But…if you’re sure you don’t mind…perhaps you could do me a favour?’
‘What is it?’ she asked—much too quickly.
His expression moved slowly but surely into a wide, tempting smile.
‘How would you feel about moving into the villa while I’m staying here?’
CHAPTER THREE
MICHELLE gazed at him, totally unable to form any words. Alessandro leaned forward a little, adding mischeviously, ‘I can guess how wicked it will make you feel, but don’t worry. We’ll keep it our secret. No one need know.’
That forced Michelle to find her voice. ‘What are you saying?’ Blushing, she lowered her head. Silence closed in around her. When she looked up again, his understanding smile set her tingling from head to foot.
‘I want to use your studio for my art. I know you like to keep your distance from the rest of the indoor staff, but there’s no one here right now. You could move in for a while and give me free rein.’ She was caught in his piercing gaze. ‘Trust me. There’s nothing more intimate on offer than that.’
Everything went very still. In the silence, Michelle became painfully aware of a sound inside her head. It was all her dreams crumbling into dust.
‘Unless,’ he said as an afterthought, ‘you have something more intimate in mind…?’
His voice lilted with danger. Michelle sensed it. Her mother might have seen off all her boyfriends in the past, but when it came to Alessandro Castiglione no previous experience was necessary. This man was seduction in the flesh.
Pressing his foot into the carpet of tiny sweet herbs beneath the swing-seat, he set it moving. It rocked gently in the warm breeze, scented by low-growing thyme. Michelle hoped it would cool her flaming cheeks. Instead, she felt hotter than ever. She began moving uneasily. Strange feelings flowed through her body every time she looked at him. She had never experienced anything like this before. At home, eye contact had been something to be avoided. Here, held by his steady gaze, it was to be enjoyed.
His arm dropped lazily along the back of the bench. Michelle had an overwhelming urge to lean against it. She had felt the strong security of his hands once already. To feel them a second time, in a caress rather than as a support, would be heavenly. It took a real effort to shake free from the power of his eyes.
‘What’s the matter, cara?’
She stood up quickly. ‘I don’t like this.’
He
